The Waiting Soul

Breathe from the gentle south, O Lord, 
And cheer me from the north; 
Blow on the treasures of thy word, 
And call the spices forth! 

I wish, Thou knowest, to be resign'd, 
And wait with patient hope; 
But hope delay'd fatigues the mind, 
And drinks the spirits up. 

Help me to reach the distant goal; 
Confirm my feeble knee; 
Pity the sickness of a soul 
That faints for love of Thee! 

Cold as I feel this heart of mine, 
Yet, since I feel it so, 
It yields some hope of life divine 
Within, however low. 

I seem forsaken and alone, 
I hear the lion roar; 
And every door is shut but one, 
And that is Mercy's door. 

There, till the dear Deliverer come, 
I'll wait with humble prayer; 
And when He calls His exile home, 
The Lord shall find him there. 

- William Cowper

Proverbs 13:12 Hope deferred maketh the heart sick: but when the desire cometh, it is a tree of life.

Psalm 40:17 But I am poor and needy; yet the Lord thinketh upon me: thou art my help and my deliverer; make no tarrying, O my God.

Graphics by Mary Stephens
Posted 2018